[ Jason needs to understand this. Understand that Damian may have been Bruce's blood son, but that meant very little. Perhaps the greatest achievement in Damian's career as a young vigilante was somehow teaching Bruce empathy for even the most fucked up of children; to accept and love his sons and daughter when they make terrible mistakes, when they fall short of his ideals. His father taught him how to live, and Damian taught Bruce how to forgive. ]
I was ten when I first met Father, and he first learned of my existence. Before that, I had been raised by Mother in the League of Assassins -- in the very halls of the place we just came from, actually.
[ He smirks, arrogance muted but not gone. ]
I brought him the head of a small-time criminal, to demonstrate my loyalty. Imagine how he felt. Batman, learning he had a bastard son who killed as easily as breathing. He sent me back twice, and wanted nothing to do with me.
[ He snorts at that. From this perspective, years later, he knows how horrified Bruce had been. His father had rejected him with everything in him; even had nightmares that Damian would be the one to burn Gotham to the ground if he ever became Batman, and used that to justify abandoning him. ]
It wasn't until Mother disowned me and put me on the League hit list for declaring my ultimate allegiance to him that he let me stay. Otherwise I would have ended up dead, or as another rogue vigilante in Arkham.
[ A frown -- he doesn't like to think of what would have become of him otherwise. The odds had been stacked against him, but somehow he'd pulled a lucky card. ]
But even after becoming Blackhawk I didn't stop, Jay. We fought a lot over it. I killed Morgan Ducard, right in front of him, because he was a threat to Father. Zsasz -- you were young then, but you might remember him, from when the children began disappearing off the streets, hijacked into that fighting ring he ran. And then, when you--
[ He snaps his mouth shut, shaking his head, even as grief and fury snap like a wave across his face, breaking the composure; and his hands seek out Jason's shoulders as if he means to drag him back in. But only squeezing, restraining himself. ]
What I'm saying is -- Father's going to be furious, because no, we don't kill. Breaking that rule, no matter the cause, is always going to be hard with him. But he loves you, no matter how angry. He won't send you away, won't ever send any of you away. You're his son, no matter how badly you screw up.
no subject
[ Jason needs to understand this. Understand that Damian may have been Bruce's blood son, but that meant very little. Perhaps the greatest achievement in Damian's career as a young vigilante was somehow teaching Bruce empathy for even the most fucked up of children; to accept and love his sons and daughter when they make terrible mistakes, when they fall short of his ideals. His father taught him how to live, and Damian taught Bruce how to forgive. ]
I was ten when I first met Father, and he first learned of my existence. Before that, I had been raised by Mother in the League of Assassins -- in the very halls of the place we just came from, actually.
[ He smirks, arrogance muted but not gone. ]
I brought him the head of a small-time criminal, to demonstrate my loyalty. Imagine how he felt. Batman, learning he had a bastard son who killed as easily as breathing. He sent me back twice, and wanted nothing to do with me.
[ He snorts at that. From this perspective, years later, he knows how horrified Bruce had been. His father had rejected him with everything in him; even had nightmares that Damian would be the one to burn Gotham to the ground if he ever became Batman, and used that to justify abandoning him. ]
It wasn't until Mother disowned me and put me on the League hit list for declaring my ultimate allegiance to him that he let me stay. Otherwise I would have ended up dead, or as another rogue vigilante in Arkham.
[ A frown -- he doesn't like to think of what would have become of him otherwise. The odds had been stacked against him, but somehow he'd pulled a lucky card. ]
But even after becoming Blackhawk I didn't stop, Jay. We fought a lot over it. I killed Morgan Ducard, right in front of him, because he was a threat to Father. Zsasz -- you were young then, but you might remember him, from when the children began disappearing off the streets, hijacked into that fighting ring he ran. And then, when you--
[ He snaps his mouth shut, shaking his head, even as grief and fury snap like a wave across his face, breaking the composure; and his hands seek out Jason's shoulders as if he means to drag him back in. But only squeezing, restraining himself. ]
What I'm saying is -- Father's going to be furious, because no, we don't kill. Breaking that rule, no matter the cause, is always going to be hard with him. But he loves you, no matter how angry. He won't send you away, won't ever send any of you away. You're his son, no matter how badly you screw up.